


Shipentine's Day

by posingasme



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alcohol, Angst and Fluff and Smut, Brother/Brother Incest, Brotherly Love, Disabled Sam Winchester, Drunk Sam, F/M, Flowers, Hurt Sam Winchester, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Las Vegas, Love Confessions, M/M, Major Character Injury, Requited Love, Romantic Fluff, Valentine's Day, Valentine's Day Fluff, Vampires
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-14
Updated: 2015-02-15
Packaged: 2018-03-12 19:52:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 7,533
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3353264
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/posingasme/pseuds/posingasme
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>For the holiday, I'm creating ficlets for each of the major Supernatural ships and a few of the rarer ones. I'm collecting them all here, and will post each one as a separate chapter so you don't get your Sastie in your SamBenny. (Though you have to admit, that could be fun.) Enjoy, and don't take anything too seriously. Happy Unattached Drifter Christmas!</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. SASTIEL

Castiel was not impressed with the pink and red hearts everywhere. For one thing, it somehow annoyed him that humans had chosen that symbol to represent love, especially since it did not at all resemble an actual human heart. Or any heart he had ever seen. And the use of visions of angels to sell candy might delight his cherubic brethren, but he found it galling. Perhaps if more of these humans had actually met a cherub, they would hesitate to saturate their environment with images of them.

Sam had explained that it was traditional-though he used the word very liberally, since this was obviously a modern interpretation-for couples to express their devotion to one another by acquiring items and spending time together, usually eating, on this particular day. He admitted that most humans were unfamiliar with St. Valentine’s story at all, but that it did not really matter. It was an excuse to celebrate love from one human to another. 

One thing about the holiday interested Castiel, though. Gifts of flowers were common. It was the one redeeming quality in a holiday that seemed to be almost entirely built around guilt. Castiel had watched the first flowers form on the Earth, and he had never ceased to be amazed at the extreme variety in them, all over the planet. They evolved in the most spectacular ways through the millennia, producing the strangest and most wonderful fragrances and chromatic revelations. His favorite part was the geometry of each type of flower. They represented skewed spirals, or some other chaotic mathematical conundrums, puzzles Castiel had enjoyed confusing his ordered brain with while performing less active garrison duties throughout his lifetime. 

Sam liked flowers.

“Is there somewhere that we are supposed to be today?” he asked his human when the man’s eyes finally opened.

As he did every morning, Sam startled to find him in bed next to him. Castiel wondered if the hunter would ever grow used to his companionship. It tugged at him that Sam had been alone for so long that he may never really expect to find a lover beside him in the morning. But at least the surprise was always a pleasant one, and produced a dimpled smile. “Hey, Angel,” he breathed out happily, stretching his arms behind his head. “What did you say?”

“Are we meant to do anything or be somewhere today?”

Sam shrugged. “No. Dean’s hitting the bar scene tonight. Thought we would just hang out here and get a little research done. Why, you got a case on your periphery? Chatter on angel radio or something?”

“No,” he answered quietly. “I had something else I wanted to do.”

The hunter nodded. “Okay. When you coming back? Will we see you again this week?” There was a hint of longing in his voice, but Sam had always done a good job of covering up the fact that he did not want Castiel to go. 

“That isn’t what I mean. I have something I want us to do. Together.”

“Okay?”

“It is a holiday today.”

There came a blink, then a slow smile creeping across Sam’s face. “Uh, Cas, you don’t need to worry about Valentine’s. I’m not a fifteen year old girl. I’m a grown man. It’s just another day. When you asked about it, I thought you were just curious. I didn’t mean that you had to, you know…do something.”

Castiel nodded, and licked his pink lips. “But you said it was a day to show affection for the person you love.”

Sam’s long arm snaked around the angel’s waist, and he buried his head into his chest, which allowed Castiel to run lazy fingers through his soft hair. “You show affection every day. I didn’t plan anything for you. You seemed to hate the whole idea.”

“I was simply indifferent to the idea,” he corrected. Then he frowned. “Except the cherubs. The cherubs are strange.”

“Cherubs are strange. I met one.”

“Yes. In any case, I was indifferent to the idea until you brought up the fact that humans use flowers to express their appreciation for one another.”

“You didn’t buy flowers for us, did you?”

The fingers stilled, and he looked down at Sam’s face, which was smirking up at him. “Was that the custom?”

“Why?”

“I wasn’t planning to buy them. I wanted to take you to them. Flowers are important to their native ecosystems, Sam. There is little point in purchasing them when we can simply enjoy them without disturbing them.”

Sam’s smile was softer now. “All right, Angel. What did you have in mind?”

The hunter and the celestial spent nine hours wandering through the most beautiful places on the Earth, enjoying everything from botanical gardens to rainforests. Castiel flew them to the Netherlands to view the famous tulips, and to see the first slashes of color cutting through the winter across the Anza-Borrego Desert, to Thriplow to experience the opening buds of the daffodils across vast fields, to Lake Tekapo for the last remaining summer lupines, to Furnas on Sao Miguel for the gorgeous Terra Nosta Botanical Garden, to the rainforests of Costa Rica and all around the world for the lilies coming to life in all their grace. They went to the Maple River Winery in the Dakotas to purchase dandelion wine and brought it with them when they ate lunch in Vietnam to enjoy a banana flower salad, then returned to Asia for a dinner of shiitake and leek flower soup in Osaka. Finally, they finished up in the Ojai Valley for lavender oil-infused vodka samples and rose petal gelato. 

By the end, Sam was exhausted and utterly, completely happy, and Castiel was pleased with the way they had spent their time together. They rarely spent so much time just the two of them, and to have the opportunity to share with Sam so much of his Father’s artwork had been a lovely way to spend a very strange human holiday. Instead of returning to the bunker, they had left Dean a note and taken a rental cabin with a beautiful view in Holland. Once settled in, Castiel joined Sam for an intimate bath, which he had improved with some of the lavender oil he had picked up in California, and various fragrant petals, which Sam had laughed at but clearly appreciated. He delighted in Sam’s playful mood and was proud of the way his muscles had relaxed throughout the day until he was completely at ease. Now he lay his head against the hunter’s chest in the bed they shared which was a little too small for the two of them, and felt entirely content. 

“Happy Valentine’s Day, Sam.”

“I love you, Cas.”

He smiled as Sam’s breathing deepened and sleep took him. He stared at the single stargazer lily, the type Sam had seemed to like best of all on their trips, on the bedside table until the last of the light from the window had faded, and then he spent his night remembering each and every one of Sam’s smiles and laughs from the last several hours.


	2. WINCEST

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sam's prepared for another Valentine's night of Dean's womanizing. Scotch, anyone?

If there was a night Sam dreaded every year nearly as much as Halloween, it was February 14th. Certainly, November 2nd was miserable if he dwelled on the date, but he suspected that was harder on Dean, who actually remembered it, and they generally ignored it as well as they could. They always had a hunt on November 2nd, usually one far away from Lawrence. But it was the opposite on most Valentine’s Days. It did not matter how much blood and guts they were soaked in, when the sun went down on February 14th, Dean was off the case. The exception had been the night Famine had pulled into town. Sam had been too distracted to be grateful that year.

He knew the drill. He smiled at Dean as he barreled into the motel room, but it was not without effort. He pressed his glass to his lips.

Dean nodded at him. “You just going to research and work your way through the hunter’s helper?”

“I think so. About a quarter of the way into this bottle already. Figure I might as well see it through. Ain’t a quitter.”

His brother gave him a snort. “You all right, man? Come on, why don’t you come out with me? You haven’t had any action in a while.”

Sam let his nostrils flare, and bitterness seeped into his smile. This time he raised the entire bottle to his lips. “No kidding,” he murmured. Then he shook his head. “No, you go. You can tell me about it all in the morning.”

And he would. He always did.

“Anyway, I’m trying to translate this crap from Bobby’s locker.”

Dean’s eyebrows rose. “And you think you can do that drunk?”

“I think I can do that asleep, jackass.”

“Something wrong, Sammy? I didn’t get the memo that I should be on a higher bitchiness alert level today.”

Dean had discarded his trousers and was pulling on his jeans. Apparently he had decided on a casual approach this year. Jeans and the fed jacket and tie. Classy. Sam watched him and lifted the bottle again.

When he did not get a response, he turned to face his kid brother with a more serious expression. “Really. You okay?”

“I’m fantastic. Thought you’d be out by now. I cleared us out of the last of the scotch about a half hour ago. Stopped feeling my tongue a good fifteen minutes before that.”

Dean frowned deeply. “Dude, what’s wrong? I’ll stay in tonight. Just tell me what’s going on.”

Sam laughed a bit, then picked up his pen again. “Latin is going on, and unless you wanna be a part of it, go find some lonely girl to bang.”

Green eyes were watching him, and he wished they wouldn’t. He wished Dean would just go, so he could get back to his self-pity and blurry ancient script. But it was Dean, and of course he couldn’t do anything the easy way. “I can’t go out if I know you’re just going to drown in your own puke.”

“Won’t puke till tomorrow. I promise. Have fun.”

“You’re such a bitchy drunk.”

Sam grabbed the bottle before Dean could confiscate it. “Hey! You spend your nights the way you want and I’ll spend my mornings the way I want. If I wanna have my forehead on porcelain, that’s my business.”

“Not when I gotta smell you. Come on. Get up. Lemme see you walk.”

“Screw you, Dean,” he snarled. “Screw you. And that’s what they’re going to do.”

“What?”

“They’re going to.”

The older man stopped grabbing at his brother’s arm. “What are you even talking about?”

“The girls. The women. You’re going to screw.”

 “Okay, Sasquatch. Early night for you. Ain’t letting you translate a book of exorcisms into a Joseph Heller novel, and I ain’t letting you polish off any more of that bottle. You’re not a quarter in, you’re a third in, and that’s plenty if you really did kill off my scotch.”

Sam let himself be lead to the bed finally. Fighting against Dean while drunk was not something he was up for. And he was sufficiently ripped anyway. No point in just adding more poison to the coming hangover. “You’re an ass. A freaking jerk, you know that?”

“I know. Come on. Lie down. I’m going to get your boots off. You want your phone? Or you gonna watch some TV?” He began pulling at Sam’s laces.

“I’m going to lie here and think about you screwing someone should be me.”

Dean’s head jerked up as Sam’s boot finally gave, and knocked the man’s weight onto the floor with a thud. “What? What did you say?”

“Somebody should be me.” He could not see Dean’s face, but he didn’t care. He stared at the ceiling circling slowly above him, and wondered if he wouldn’t actually be better off on the floor.

The sound of a throat clearing got his attention. “You mean you should be screwing those girls instead of me?”

All at once, Sam realized he had no idea what he had just said aloud. And now even Dean’s words were floating to him at an angle he could not quite understand. “I should be doing what?”

Dean looked at him for a moment, then shook his head and removed his second boot. “Nothing. Just…lie here, okay? I’ll salt the place, and you can just sleep this thing off. Then I’m going out.”

“‘Course you are.”

His brother’s hands flew up. “Sammy, what? I offer to stay in, you get bitchy. I say I’m going out and you get bitchy! What is it that you’d like me to do? What do you want from me?”

“Whatever you were going to give her!” he shouted back, closing his eyes. The room was tilting at an odd angle now, and he was glad he was not staring at the Latin words.

“Give who?”

“The woman you choose for tonight! Dean, you ever wonder why you got to have a girl in every port? Why they’ll never be anything more than that for you?” He was slurring his words, but since he was not entirely sure what it was he was saying, it probably did not matter. “You think you left Lisa when I showed back up because you missed hunting? Screw you. Think it’s a coincidence you hated Amelia as much as I hated Benny? Screw that. Screw you.” The slur was getting worse, but he thought his enunciation and eloquence wasn’t bad considering the amount of poison he was swimming in. Not that he could follow what was coming out of his own mouth. But it sounded good. “Woman in every town, but always rolling through because you’ve already got what you freaking need, got it right there in the passenger! Happy unattached drifter Christmas to you too, Dean. Except you aren’t unattached, are you?”

“Sam-"

“You’re attached. You’re so freaking attached you can’t bring yourself to live without me. But you shove that down, and go find something else that feels good for a minute, because you don’t want to think about what it means, when we found out we share Heaven together! What’s one minute compared to eternity?”

When Sam opened his eyes, against his better judgement, he could see Dean’s face red with an emotion he could not identify. Anger, probably. He wasn’t sure exactly what his brain was spewing out, something about Benny and Heaven, but it was making Dean angry. He closed his eyes again, took a deep breath, and tried to determine where his thought process was going. The silence had gone on too long, however, and other than a wave of anxiety, he could not really say what they had been talking about, why either of them might be angry.

“Sammy?” Dean said cautiously after several minutes. “You still awake?”

“Mostly,” he lied. The eyes were not going to open again tonight. He was pretty sure of that.

“Sam, just relax a minute, okay? I’m going to sit with you. You go ahead and fall asleep.”

“Okay. You going out? Valentine’s, right?”

There was a hand on his then, its warmth transferring to Sam’s numb skin. “No, Sammy. I’m not going out this time. We’ll talk when you wake up, okay? Just sleep now, and let me work on something in my head. But I think…I think we’re going to do things differently from now on. Maybe…maybe we've been so programmed to be brothers, maybe we lost sight of the fact that we’re soulmates too.”

Sam shook his head, but could not open his eyes. “Never forgot that, Dean. Not for a second. You’ve never just been my brother. You’re my everything.”

Dean was nodding to himself, but Sam could not see his eyes filling with tears. “You’re the smart one, Sammy. You’ve always been the smart one.” 

“You’re a genius, Dean,” he sighed, “when you’re not being an idiot.”

It was the last thing Sam said to him on Valentine’s Day this year. Dean had watched him for another several minutes before reaching out one hand to tenderly push Sam’s hair from his face. Then he pulled his tie off, watching his Sammy with a slow smile, and shed the jacket as well, and the white shirt. The tee remained, as did the jeans. Then he lifted Sam’s head as gently as he possibly could, and negotiated the man’s weight until he was cradling his head in his own lap. For most of the night, he sat against the wall, stroking the younger man’s hair and thinking of how long it had been since he had first wanted to touch Sam and how good it would feel to finally, finally be able to kiss him. For the first time in his life, he felt as though Valentine’s Day had something to do with real, true love.


	3. DESTIEL & SABRIEL

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean and Castiel share a suite in Vegas with Sam and Gabriel for a Valentine's weekend. Hunters and their angels settle in for a few days of fun.

“This was not the best idea your brother has ever had,” Castiel was saying to Sam when Dean walked in.

Dean smiled at his angel fondly. “Oh yeah? Why not?”

Sam laughed in his quiet way. “No, you’re right. It’s an airtight plan. Nothing could possibly go wrong as long as Gabriel is there.”

Castiel rolled his blue eyes. “Please tell me he’s simply meeting us there.”

Dean put his arm through the angel’s. “Stop fussing, Cas. We aren’t taking my Baby. I know how much you love road trips with Gabe. Cas, I’m with my brother all the time. You can’t spend some time with yours once in a while?”

“Once in a while? A weekend in Vegas better not come up once in a while. Not with Gabriel. I agreed to a once in a lifetime event. Your words, not mine. I’m holding you to that.” He reached out for Sam’s shoulder, and they blinked into a very different environment altogether.

Gabriel was leaning against a wall outside their suite. When they appeared in front of him, he held up his key card with a smile and eyebrow wiggle that made Sam laugh and made Castiel roll his eyes again. “Heya, muttonheads. Hi, Sam.”

“Gabriel, you redirected my flight.”

“Because you were heading the wrong way.”

“It’s inappropriate, and you know it.”

“Pretty sure I missed that day in etiquette class.”

Castiel ground his teeth in irritation. “And I’m fairly certain you missed the course entirely.”

The younger hunter bent to plant a kiss on the archangel’s lips. “Stop arguing with Cas,” he said softly.

Castiel’s eyebrow peaked smugly. The only person Gabriel ever took direction from was Sam, who always had Castiel's back.

Dean was laughing. “Okay, so you do sound like me and Sam sometimes. You checked us in, Gabe?”

“I said I’d take care of it, didn’t I?”

“Did you actually purchase the suite, Gabriel, or did you simply acquire it?”

“Does it matter?” The golden angel turned to Sam, with the most serious face he ever used. “Does it matter?” he asked again, this time without the sarcasm.

Dean shrugged. “Look, I’ve paid for most of my rooms with fake credit cards my whole life, Cas. I got no issue with your brother magically having a gorgeous connected suite available for us on the hardest weekend to book in Vegas all year.”

“It isn’t magic, it’s the warping of-“

Dean cut him off by planting a kiss on his moving lips. When he stood back, Castiel looked sufficiently flustered, and had forgotten what he was about to say. “Okay, Gabe. Get us in here. I want to check out our digs.”

“I already checked what matters,” Gabriel said over his shoulder as he opened the room. “Candy on the pillows and porn-per-view on the tube. You know, for you, when my little brother gets prudey and boring, and I’m busy with yours.”

Dean’s eyes closed to blink out that image, and he opened them just in time to see Sam deliver an Emmy-worthy bitchface, even as he blushed at the idea of being Gabriel’s alternative to porn. The older man shuddered. “You know the deal, Gabriel,” he reminded him in his gruff voice. “I hear sexy time noises coming from the other side of our wall, I’m letting Cas stick you with his less fun pointy thing.”

They stepped into a beautiful, well-lit room, which was larger and better furnished and decorated than many houses Dean had been in. He smirked. “Sammy, we ain’t in Kansas anymore.”

“No kidding.”

They separated to settle in, agreeing to meet again in an hour to go out. Once their door was closed, Dean felt Castiel take hold of him around the waist. He grinned as the angel tossed him effortlessly onto the large bed. “Hey, babe. Wanna at least wait until we’ve got our shoes off?”

Castiel was looking down at him with a blue fire that made him shiver. As he crawled onto the bed himself, he was shaking his head. “I don’t understand why you wanted to share our weekend together with our brothers. You had Gabriel and me leave our work rebuilding Heaven for a full weekend, and you know it is unlikely we’ll have this length of time together again soon. So why share it?”

The hunter smiled at him, and pulled him down to the mattress beside him. “It’s fun, Cas. We’re not sharing the whole weekend with them. We’re just going out with them and having fun, then we’re separating for the romantic stuff. It’s Valentine’s, Cas. Relax. We’ll have plenty of time alone.” He grinned. “Besides, your big bro lives big, and I like that once in a while. We’ll be eating lobster tails and steak tonight, drinking the best wines and whiskeys. We’re staying at the nicest hotel in their nicest suite on the busiest weekend of the year. We can play slots, but we can also get into the high roller backroom games. It’s fun to live big once in a while.”

Castiel gave him a patient, nearly amused look. “And then we can go back to being simple when we’re alone?”

He hoped his green gaze was expressing to Castiel how devoted he was to his life with the angel. “Cas, you know me. I’m a simple man. It’s fun to live big once in a while, but all I will ever need is you by my side. Why do you think…Cas, my favorite things are eating, sleeping and fighting beside you. We can do that in a dusty cabin or on the Strip, as long as I’m with you.”

The angel seemed satisfied with that answer. He leaned in for a sensual kiss, and as always, Dean let the rest of the world slip away to enjoy it.

It was true. Dean was a simple man, and Castiel? Castiel was everything he needed. Since Sam had learned Gabriel was still alive, and they had begun their strange romance, Dean had realized that for the first time in their lives, Sam did not need him to watch out for him. _Look after Sammy_ had been the theme of his whole life, but now? There was no one more capable or more motivated to look after Sam Winchester than Gabriel, the last of the archangels, who had fallen in love with him. Dean had found himself without a job for the first time. And as soon as the sting of that subsided, it occurred to him that he could now devote himself to something else…to someone else. At that moment, all thoughts had turned to Castiel, the angel he had fought alongside all this time, had experienced foxholes and danger with, who had protected him with the same ferocity Dean had always dedicated to the angel himself. It was then, after all these years, that he gave himself permission to think of Castiel as something other than a war buddy. Castiel had simply been waiting patiently for that moment, and when Dean had stumbled through that first awkward conversation, he had just given a deep, shuddering sigh of relief and smiled wearily, then asked if this meant he could finally-finally!-kiss his human companion.

On the other side of the wall, things were less peaceful. Gabriel had pounced on Sam immediately, lifting him into his strong arms, and letting the long legs wrap around him. Gabriel bypassed the bed entirely and before Sam knew it, they were out on a balcony in the cool air.

He laughed happily. “Gabe, somebody will see us!”

“Nope,” the Trickster argued. “I won’t let them.”

“You don’t care if they see us,” Sam admonished.

His whiskey eyes sparkled in the natural sunlight. “No. But you do. So don’t worry about it. For the next hour, no one is going to feel compelled to look in our direction. And I’m going to enjoy every ridiculous inch of you while they're all not looking.”

Gabriel lifted Sam to the balcony railing. “Don’t let me fall,” Sam breathed into his ear.

He received a look of earnest adoration. “First? Never. And second? You think I couldn’t fly faster than you could fall?” Then the smirk was back. “I’ll wait a while longer to introduce you to air sport. For now, this will have to do. We’ll work you up to orgasming in free fall.”

Sam meant to glare at him, but he was certain it was much more a look of complete arousal. “What’s the plan for the weekend, Gabe?” he asked, watching breathlessly as Gabriel peeled off his lover’s clothing.

“For now, I’m going to get you off so hard you need resurrecting.”

“That’s not funny, Gabe. I’ve been resurrected an awful lot of times.” He gave him a real glower now. “And so has my brother.”

The angel shrugged. “I always brought him back, didn’t I? Really pissed off the reapers that day.”

“Tuesday, Gabe. It was a Tuesday.”

“Yeah, but not _last_ Tuesday! It's been...years! Besides, have I not made it up to you yet?”

The intensity on Sam’s face gave way to mischief. “Not at all. Go on. Try again.”

Gabriel’s mouth curved into a hungry sneer. “Why do I think I’m going to be making that up to you for a very, very long time?”

“You stuffed my consciousness into a car, asshole. Better get creative.”

The archangel looked into his eyes for a moment, and his face softened in a way no one ever saw but Sam. “I love you. You know that. Even Kali never stood up to me like you do. You’re the only thing in the universe I can’t dominate, the only thing I can’t just have, and that makes you the only thing I want. You’re the only thing in the universe I want to serve.”

Sam did not bother hiding his smile now, but he took Gabriel’s hand and pulled him flush against him roughly, hearing the catch of breath in the vessel’s lungs. “Then start serving, my love.”

Valentine’s Day was different in Vegas. And it was very different in the arms of an angel.


	4. SAMBENNY

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Benny warms up Sam on a chilly Michigan morning in February.

If you take away the fangs and the fun, Benny was born a human too. So he remembers what it’s like to sleep, even if he doesn’t have to. He remembers eating real food, and getting drunk, and all these things. And he remembers how nice it feels to be warm on a cold day.

Sam runs cold. Always has, Dean says, but since Lucifer got his damn chill up inside his skin, it’s been that much worse. So it’s never a surprise to find Sam rubbing his own arms absently while reading something, even though he wears layers.

Today, Benny finds him out on the deck, reading and shivering. He smiles to himself, noting that the man probably does not even realize he is cold. Sam becomes so absorbed in his reading that he never pays attention to things like that. The vamp prepares a few items, then slips his sunglasses on and heads out to take care of his hunter.

“Hey!” he cries out when he sees Benny’s approach. “Whatcha got?”

“Just a few things to keep my darling warm.”

Sam smiles at him sleepily. “Really? I’m not a kid, Benny. I can take care of myself.”

“When you got to,” Benny drawls out. “But you don’t got to when I’m around.”

The hazel eyes watch as the vamp pulls the blanket around his broad shoulders, then hands him the hot chocolate to warm his fingers. Lastly, a knit hat is pulled over the long brown hair. “Really?” he says again. “Hat too?”

“Look, you got a body temperature to worry about.”

“You have one too. It’s just the same as the air around you, that’s all.”

“All right, smartass. All the same. Dean would throw a hissy if I let you starve and freeze just because you’re catching up on all the books you never got to read in your hunting years.”

Sam sips at the hot chocolate and sighs happily. “I think Dean would be just fine with how you take care of me,” he mutters. Then he looks up at the large vamp. “You heard from him lately?”

“Not since we went on the last supply run.” Benny watches him moving with discomfort. He takes the book from its precarious perch on the chair arm and the covered mug from Sam’s hand, and sets them on the small table. Then he reaches for Sam.

“I got it, Benny.”

“I know you do. Shut up. I’m being romantical. It’s Valentine’s, jackass. I can put my arm around you if I want.” He lifts Sam to a stand as carefully as he can, negotiating the man’s weight familiarly.

Sam allows the help less resentfully now than he did a year ago. Benny, for one, thinks they’ve come a long way in that regard. It has been a long time since Sam has been truly angry to need his assistance. He suspects that has something to do with Benny’s insistence that he does it only because he wants to and not because Sam needs him.

A year ago, the anger was everywhere. Benny could smell it the day he arrived at the bunker, having been shoved through the Purgatory hatch and back into his poor, abused body for the second time. He never sought to return, but that stupid human never would have made it back without him, and when he learned that he was a friend of the Winchesters who had screwed up a spell, well…why not? Better than letting the moron die bloody or continuing to protect him in monster heaven. It turns out that James Frampton is, in fact, an occasional affiliate of the Winchester men, but the word friend was an exaggeration on the witch’s part. Once they were back on solid ground, James released Benny into his previous form, as promised, but then disappeared to reconnect with Portia. Benny found a phone to call his only friend, and arrived at the bunker two days later to find a tragedy had occurred in his absence.

The younger Winchester was less than pleased to see him initially, but once Benny made it his only mission to atone for the serious damage other vampires had done to him in a brawl, they became friends after just a few weeks. Benny moved him out of the bunker as soon as Dean would let him out of his sight. The angel visits them here often. For the first months, he apologized every time he arrived, for not preventing the damage or being able to heal it completely. It seems to Benny that Castiel carries guilt around with him in the pockets of that trench coat as ballast. Sam waved him off every time, and now the crazy aunt just sits with them and enjoys their company every few sunsets. Dean prefers to meet them on land when they go for supplies, but some nights, as Sam sleeps, Benny and Castiel count the stars together and talk about things the humans are too young to remember. They rarely talk about Purgatory, but it is a shared bond. Castiel never minds when Benny drinks while they stargaze.

Now they have reached a peaceful retirement on Benny’s houseboat in the lakes of Michigan. He has modified the houseboat to enable them to stay away from the docks as long as possible. They anchor instead of moor whenever they can. Most days, like today, it is just the two of them. Benny keeps his cooler stocked with blood, and Sam keeps his shelves stocked with books. Without access to land, Benny is never overwhelmed by temptations the way he was before, and Sam’s blood smells different, contains something he never craves. Sam can forget sometimes that he has no use of his left leg, because there is very little to do every day other than lose himself in every book he ever wanted to read. Sam did some upgrading of his own with Benny’s new home, and somehow he always seems able to get internet wifi access. Benny doesn’t understand the whole thing, but it makes Sam happy. He runs the hub for the hunters’ network now. He answers cell calls and researches on his laptop, sometimes checks up on old friends like Garth and a girl called Chrissy, but otherwise, he relaxes and enjoys himself.

Today, he has created a special breakfast for his human, and he carries the hot chocolate in one hand and assists Sam’s walk with his other arm. The man is smiling at him suspiciously. “What'd you do, Lafitte?”

“Nothing big. Just wanted to do something different today. You stretched out? Ready to sit?”

Sam’s face contains warm gratitude. “Yeah. I been sitting too long. Came out to finish my book real early and didn’t realize how late it was till you came out. Glad you did. I didn’t know how stiff I was getting.”

He nods. He leads Sam back to the table on the deck, and corrects the slipping blanket over his shoulders. He places the covered mug on the table and smiles. “I’ll get your breakfast. It’s ready.”

“We can eat inside if you don’t want to deal with the sun.”

“Naw, I’m fine. Let’s keep you warm. I’ll just sit in the shade. I’ll be fine. Wait here.”

Months ago, Sam might have made a snippy remark about not being able to go anywhere fast, but now he smiles and nods. “I’ll be here,” he murmurs softly.

Benny returns a moment later with his creation. As always, he is compelled to give Sam the entire description of the process he used as he presents it to him, but he sticks with simply identifying it. “Sautéed tilapia, just seasoned with some light pepper and curry powder. There’s some of the red cherry tomatoes you liked from that farmer’s market. And this is a poached egg with aged Parmesan and quinoa. Never even heard of quinoa back in my time.”

“Never heard of a lot of things back in your time, old man,” Sam teases.

“Yeah. Like Valentine’s Day.”

The man laughs. “They had that back then too.”

“Not like you people do now.”

“You people? Don’t lump me in with that.”

Benny touches his face, and sits beside him. He watches Sam take a bite of his breakfast. “Do you like it?”

“I love it. And I love you. Every day, not just today.”

His lover smiles happily, and ducks his head a bit like he does when he doesn’t know what else to do, when he’s so in love with Sam that it hurts a little. “Then, darling, happy everyday.”

“Happy everyday to you too, man.”


	5. MEGSTIEL

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Meg surprises Castiel by requesting a night out for Valentine's Day.

Their date had been Meg’s second choice for a Valentine’s gift. Castiel had rejected the first one, and she was still giggling to herself about it. Poor Castiel could never tell when she was being serious or messing with his head. He was just delicious when he tilted his head and looked at her with that suspicious blue gaze that said he was trying to decode her every expression.

So she indulged in making him do it again as they sat down across from one another at the restaurant. “Well,” she purred, “if I can’t have an actual beating human heart tied up in a bow, I suppose this will do instead.”

Their hostess stared at them for a moment, then hurried away without another word.

Castiel’s eyes narrowed. “I said we could do this only if you did not frighten the humans.”

“Who’s frightened? I think she was just too turned on to handle us.”

“Unlikely,” Castiel replied with a sigh. “I still do not even understand the point of this. Both of us can eat and yet neither of us need to do so. When I asked you if and how you preferred to celebrate this human holiday, I did not expect eating to be a part of it. It seems very…human.”

Meg smirked at him. “We aren’t human, Clarence. But we aren’t really an angel and a demon now, are we? Anyway, maybe I want to pretend we’re just a normal pair of lovers on a day meant for lovers.”

“I’m more inclined to believe you have something else in mind, which will confuse me greatly.”

Her laugh bubbled up as the waiter approached them, dressed all in black. She grinned at him. “Well, hello!”

He smiled back. “Hi. I’m Porter, and I’ll be your server tonight. Welcome. Can I start you off with a bottle of wine?”

“Nope,” she said with her pretty lilt. “But you can pick out your best vodka and tell your bartender to make a Bloody Bull with it. Clarence, you drinking tonight?”

“Should I be?” he asked pointedly.

She smiled and took his hand in hers. “Always so suspicious, Clarence,” she chided. “What do you think I’m going to do?”

“Just a coffee for me, please,” he sighed.

Porter nodded at them and floated off to the bar.

“What is a Bloody Bull?”

A mischievous laugh filled the air around their table, and she could see Castiel beginning to relax into a smile as he listened to it. “Nothing to worry about, Angel. It’s a vodka cocktail with lemon, tabasco, beef bouillon and worcestershire sauce. One of this place’s specialties according to its website. Supposed to burn really good going down. You know. Like I do.”

If it were possible for angels to blush, she felt certain Castiel would have. Instead, he licked his lips carefully. “I see.”

“No actual bulls harmed in the making, Clarence.”

He rolled his blue eyes. “Well, good for that.” His long fingers pushed the black mop of sex hair out of his face, and he gazed at her in silence for a moment. “Why are we really here, Meg?”

She could not help the way she looked back at him, with real love in her dark eyes. “Castiel,” she said quietly. She was glad she had ordered the drink. She would need it after this.

The use of his true name always made his attention focus sharply. She knew he loved Clarence, not that he had ever really understood why she called him that. But it was Meg’s name for him, and so he accepted it with pride. But when she used his true name, it was a sign that he should listen quietly, and he always did so with rapt concentration.

It was times like this that reminded her that he could see her true face through the features of the pretty starlet she had allowed to be reaped to Heaven. Meg was not ashamed of her true form. She knew what she was. But if there were ever a time she wished she were not a demon, it was when she sat with the only angel who would ever accept her as she was.

She cleared her throat. “Castiel,” she murmured again, “it’s been a long while since that silly game of fetch we played with that angel tablet. Since Crowley tried to gank me.”

Blue fire flashed in Castiel’s eyes now, at the memory of finding Meg nearly completely destroyed by the King of Hell. But he remained silent and let her continue.

 “Sam Winchester hid me from the demons, to heal, but…we both know if you hadn’t arrived when you did…”

“I don’t like to think of that,” he said a bit sharply.

Meg touched his hand again. “I know you don’t, Clarence. But I do.”

It was like the comment she had made about missing the Apocalypse all over again. He stared at her with that look that said he was certain he had misunderstood something.

The waiter came to deliver their drinks and take their orders, then slipped away quickly. In that time, Castiel watched her. At last, he spoke again. “Why would you like to think of being a moment from death?”

“Because you did come. Because I could smile at you and see your pretty face one more time. No one remembers me, Clarence. Ever. Do you know how many times I’ve been left for dead by allies? The Winchesters alone! But you…you came for me.”

“Of course I did. Meg, had I been of clear mind, and had I known where to find you, I would have been there sooner-"

“Shh. That’s not the point. The point is this. You came. And you helped me heal.”

Castiel’s hand trembled very slightly as he raised it to rub his eyes. “Meg, before you, it never occurred to me to regret that angels cannot heal demons.”

“You’re not meant to. We’re stains, remember?”

His eyes closed. “Please don’t say that in first person,” he breathed. “We do not talk about angels and demons in first person. We are only Meg and Castiel. You are not a demon to me, nor am I an angel to you. So please don’t ever say that.”

Her face softened. “I know, Clarence. But you did heal me. You know that. You nursed me just as I watched over you in that facility. You once said you owed me. Those were your words. We’re long past even now. I’m healed, Clarence. It took a really, really long time. But we’re here tonight, drinking and eating like lovers do, because I am healed, we’re past even, and there’s no real reason for you to stay anymore. I just want one last night of pretending we’re a regular Meg and Clarence instead of Nayeli the demon warrior and Castiel the angel soldier, before you fly away.”

“Nayeli.”

Angels cannot blush. Demons, on the other hand, when in a body which has been otherwise vacated, are perfectly capable of it. “It was my first name. From when I was human.”

“Of course it was.”

She startled a bit at his response. “What?”

Castiel’s fingers closed over her hand, and he held it firmly in both of his. “Nayeli. It’s a Zapotec name.”

“Yes. I was a very, very bad Zapotec woman, feared by everyone who encountered me, including my own people. How do you even know that?”

He raised an eyebrow, but did not bother responding. “You were named in the Zapotec language. It means _love_. Am I right?”

Her black heart was filled to bursting for this creature who never ceased to amaze her with his kindness and his generosity. “Almost,” she whispered. “It means _I love you_.”

Castiel nodded slowly, his blue gaze fixed on their joined hands. “Nayeli. Thank you for telling me. But you will always be Meg, and I always Clarence, because those are the names we took for our own as we began again, and neither of us will be flying away from the other. Not now and not ever.”

Tears tightened her throat. “Castiel,” she choked, “you don’t even know the things I’ve done. Stain doesn’t even cover it. You see my true face every time you look at me. It will never let you forget what I am.”

“I see my tireless caretaker, my strong warrior, my beautiful Meg. We redeem one another, further every day, and I will always be grateful to you for that. Every moment I spend with you, I am less an angel and more Clarence, and every moment you’re with me, you are less a demon and more Meg. Don’t ask me to go, Meg. I like who I am with you.”

 _My unicorn_.

She sputtered a laugh, and took a sip of her drink. It did burn going down, but it was a good burn, as she had suspected it would be. “You know Clarence is an angel, right?”

For this, she received a small smirk. “I thought he might be,” he responded dryly.

Meg smiled at him. “Okay, then, Clarence. Here’s to the next hundred years.” She raised her glass, and felt a wave of affection fill her when he smiled at her in that way he would never smile at anyone else.


End file.
